


The Choice Is Yours To Be Loved

by Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Romance, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), I'm Bad At Tagging, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, One True Pairing, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Secret Relationship, Soulmates, TROS is Terrible, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium/pseuds/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium
Summary: Post-TLJ AU.Rey travels to Ahch-To to separate herself from the Force...and Ben.It does not go as she anticipates.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 19
Kudos: 107





	The Choice Is Yours To Be Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this idea came from, but it sort of grabbed me and wouldn't let go until I wrote it out. I'm not 100% sure it does what I want it to do, but I guess you get to be the judge of that, dear reader!

Ahch-To looks exactly the same.

It isn’t as if Rey is expecting anything different. It has barely been a standard month since she was here last. Still, it feels strange to see the stone huts and drying racks, the Caretakers scurrying around maintaining it all, and know that Luke Skywalker is no longer alive to see it.

She can’t explain why she feels the need to do this here. The last few weeks she has lived as if she were sleepwalking. She hasn’t been able to settle to anything, to calm her racing brain. Meditation is a joke. Even her already-famous appetite has suffered, earning her concerned comments from Finn and Rose.

It feels as if Rey has thought of little for the past month except him. After Crait, she spent so many hours trying not to think about him that she finally gave up, since it came to the same end. She replays their encounters in her memory, over and over until she can’t make sense of them anymore. Was there something else she could have said, something she should have done? She can’t find the break, the moment when the road she thought she was on failed to bring her to the destination she wanted so badly. He didn’t turn. He didn’t come home with her. To her.

Nights are the most unsettling. She wakes up every morning, chest heaving and sheets damp with sweat, unable to remember her dreams but knowing somehow that he has shared them. The dreams are what finally drove her here. It isn’t that she’s afraid of them, more that she isn’t.

Telling Leia is impossible. What can she say? _I have to go. I can’t stop wanting your lost boy and it’s driving me mad._ She already dreads the reactions she will get when she returns and explains what she has done. What she came here to do. It’s the only way she can think of to be free of him, before it’s too late and she has to admit to herself that she doesn’t want to be.

The wind tearing off the ocean is frigid, enough to make her teeth chatter, but after a few minutes on the steep ridge trail it feels good on her overheated body. It whistles through the empty temple at the top of the peak as Rey considers where to do it. When she decided on this course, she imagined sitting outside on the outcropping where Luke lectured her. There is something compelling about the image of herself presiding, serene and steady, over a tempestuous sea.

But standing in the empty space, she gravitates instead to the small pool at its heart. The oval bottom is covered in smooth stones that form a figure wielding a saber, half-Light and half-Dark. It reminds her of Ben, split down the middle. She believes that about him, even now.

Cold creeps up her spine from the rock floor as she positions herself, cross-legged, in front of the pool. Allowing her concentration to drift was a mistake. Instead of the certainty she wants, she’s filled with misgivings. Concerns that haven’t occurred to her until now crowd her mind. Will he feel this? Will he care?

He made his choice. It’s idiotic for her to worry about his well-being, even as she sits here preparing to do this momentous thing to separate herself from him. Though truthfully, it doesn’t seem as much of a sacrifice as perhaps it should. She has only known about her gifts in the Force for a few weeks. It can hardly make that much of a difference to put them aside.

The idea came to her because of Luke, of course. He severed himself from the Force, just as she is preparing to do now. He was hiding, though she has never been entirely clear why. Was it fear of Snoke? Maybe he was too ashamed to face Han and Leia. Rey is not hiding. Yes, she’s turning away from this inexplicable bond with Ben. But that isn’t hiding, it’s just…prudent. He made a decision that took him from her, and she can no longer trust in his good intentions. She has to defend the Resistance. This is a sensible act. There is no more to it than that.

She lays her hands flat over her knees, pressing into the fabric just a bit to still them. She isn’t entirely sure how to do the thing she needs to do. The Jedi texts are incomprehensible; she can hardly make it through a single page. When she can string a few words together, they make no sense. The only way she knows this is even possible is because she saw for herself Luke’s absence from the vitality of the island.

The Force feels different here than in any other place Rey has experienced it. The atmosphere is denser, electric. The hairs on her arms lift as she turns her consciousness inward. There is Light, of course, but also the persistent whisper of the Darkness, the lure that drew her to the cave and the mirror, and arguably to Ben.

The Dark did not frighten her that night. It wanted to tell her something, something she needed to know. Luke acknowledged it, but rebuked her anyway for surrendering to her curiosity. Rey doesn’t fully understand or accept that, even now. How can seeing yourself more clearly, even your ugly or broken parts, be dangerous? What kind of life can you hope to have if you spend it afraid, constantly rejecting who you truly are? Self-denial is the part of becoming a Jedi that Rey finds least appealing.

As usual, she’s terrible at focusing. She didn’t come here to wrestle with the question of whether she’d be any good as a Jedi. On the contrary, if she can do what she came here to do, she’ll never need to concern herself with that subject again.

The sun has set low enough that it’s shining through the arched opening, staining her eyelids crimson. Rey latches onto the color, letting go of thought and simply flowing into it. Her breath slows and with it her heartbeat. It’s like falling through endless space.

Space.

Not crimson but black.

The blackness of space.

Of night.

Ben’s arms are around her, his nose buried in the hair at the base of her neck. Is this the memory of a dream? A vision of the future? Is she with him right now?

Does it matter?

She shouldn’t be here, but at the moment she can’t say precisely why. He is warm and his skin against her skin is the best thing she has ever felt. Why isn’t she supposed to be here?

 _Because of the Darkness_ , her conscience needles her. _He’s full of Darkness._

 _And Light_ , she argues in spite of herself. _He’s full of both. And so am I._

_So am I._

She considers again what she is here to do. She means to push him away. To let go of this, whatever it is. Cut the string tethering them together across time and space. Her heart pangs sharply at the thought.

He murmurs her name. He’s asleep but responds to her anguish just the same. He tugs her closer, her back tight to his chest. Rey should be relieved at the prospect of finally escaping him, but she isn’t.

 _Goodbye_ , she thinks, ghosting her lips over his bare shoulder.

She imagines the Force as a tapestry of pulsing, multicolored cords, weaving around her and linking her to all other life and death. In her mind's eye, deliberately and carefully, she begins to sever each one.

“Rey?” Ben is awake immediately, confused and agitated.

She cuts another.

“What’s happening?”

And another.

“What are you doing?” he yells, but his voice is already coming from a great distance. She can’t feel his warmth or his breath or the Light burning inside him, even after so many years of the Darkness trying to snuff it out.

Another.

“Stop!” he screams. She can hear his panic but she can’t feel it like she knows she would have before. As if the emotion were born inside her, as if they are the same person.

She hates this. Every atom in her body riots. It’s how she imagines drowning, or being swallowed alive in the sands of Jakku. All the color and sound and music of the cosmos is disappearing, spiraling away high above her as she sinks farther and farther into deepest oblivion.

The pain is almost unbearable, not just physical agony but an honest realization of what she is losing. She would rather amputate her own hands than dissolve the final strand holding her to the Force, to him.

She tries to claw her way back to awareness. It’s harder now, without the Force to draw on for strength. At first, she isn’t certain she has opened her eyes, because the sun has sunk lower on the horizon. The brilliant crimson has faded.

It’s a struggle to pull air into her lungs. The rock is unforgiving beneath her palms and knees. Something is wrong, it has to be. Luke wasn’t suffering like this. _Did I go too far?_ she wonders. _Am I not strong enough?_

There’s a frantic movement to her left and she turns her head to see Ben there. His back is to her and he’s looking around wildly, trying to find her. She realizes he can’t sense her anymore, and chokes in remorse. His head snaps around hard at the sound.

“What did you do?” he shouts, furious. His voice has a curious, muffled quality but he sounds like she feels, terrified and disoriented.

The only response she can manage is a mewling sort of cry.

“Tell me what you did,” he demands desperately. His form dims and wavers in front of her eyes. She can see through him, to the temple walls beyond.

“Shut myself off…from the Force,” she rasps.

“Why? Why would you ever do such a thing!” His eyes dart all around. “Where are you? What is this place?”

“You see it?”

“In flashes. It’s…fading in and out. Where are you?”

“Jedi temple. Ahch-To.”

“And why are you in the Jedi temple on Ahch-To SHUTTING YOURSELF OFF FROM THE FORCE?”

She can’t look at him. “I didn’t know how else to stop it.”

He is so silent she thinks he has vanished. But when she finally looks, he is staring at her open-mouthed. Horrified.

“You hate me that much, that you would hurt yourself like this? To hurt me? Can you feel how much the Force abhors this? What a violation this is?”

“I don’t hate you. Wish I hated you. It would be easier. I…”

He comes closer, kneels down. He doesn’t try to touch her and she thinks maybe it’s because he is petrified he can’t.

“Rey,” he pleads, “let me help. Let me help you rejoin the Force. I promise you, you won’t ever have to speak to me again. But this is so, so wrong.”

“I didn’t know it would hurt this much,” she manages. “I didn’t mean for you to feel this pain.”

He reaches for her then. It’s not like before. He isn’t solid and warm as he was that night by the fire. His fingers seem to slide past her face, with only a hint of disturbed air.

“I don’t think it’s hurting me the same way it’s hurting you. I’m still connected to the Force. But there’s a hole, an emptiness, where you should be. It’s like part of—”

“—my soul is gone,” she finishes weakly.

She stares in front of her, at the oval pool with its representation of Light and Dark in perfect harmony. She was wrong before. It shouldn’t have made her think of Ben alone. It’s the two of them, clinging together. One soul, balanced forever along a blade’s edge, each person leveraging the other.

_What kind of life can you hope to have if you spend it afraid, constantly rejecting who you truly are?_

“Ben,” she sighs, “help me put it right?”

“What is that?” he asks, pointing to the pool. Without waiting for a reply, he continues, “Can you feel the energy it’s giving off?”

In truth, she’s so far gone she can’t. Ben moves to the pool, seating himself in its middle. He isn’t fully present in the temple and doesn’t notice the water. “I need you to come to me. Can you do that, Rey? I can’t touch you to help you move closer.”

She crawls over the low lip of the pool, shaking as her exposed calves submerge in the icy water. She sits between Ben’s legs and somehow doesn’t fall backward. Whatever faint presence he is able to manifest here, it’s enough to hold her up.

“Close your eyes,” he directs. “Try to relax and center yourself on the sound of my breath.”

At first, nothing happens and she thinks she went too far. He can’t help and she will never again be part of him, of them, as she was before. But as she falls into sync with his breathing, she begins to feel something. Coils of heat and light and the velvet embrace of darkness, too. They slip around her as easily as a cloak and she is protected. Ever so slowly, Ben is more _here_ , more tangible to her. He eases into her mind, like the first day they met, but this time he is building and repairing and smoothing the jagged edges she tore.

As their signatures coalesce and merge back into one, her connection to the Force is refashioned. He is the bridge she crosses to rejoin the currents of the universe. Rey doesn’t know if the bond feels stronger than before because she is welcoming it so fully, or because Ben is channeling every ounce of power he has into her. But the colors around her explode in vividness, and she hears the song of every living thing on the island reverberating inside her own cells.

More than anything, she feels Ben. He’s spent, and uncomfortably aware of the water soaking through his clothes. He’s angry at her for doing such a dangerous thing. And he’s so relieved to have her in his arms that he’s having trouble masking how close he is to tears.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he growls into her ear, making her shiver. The fear under the fury is evident. “Please.”

Rey twists around, sloshing water noisily over the rim of the pool. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him fiercely. She tastes his surprise and the flare of longing that follows. He buries his hands in her hair. The air enveloping them stirs and hums. The Force is satisfied.

“I’m sorry,” she falters when they break apart. “I thought it would be for the best if we were…divided. I was wrong. It was awful. I can’t—” she shakes her head and pulls him to her mouth again, unable to finish the thought.

His hands are hot on her skin. His lips are greedy, and his desire glows red through her eyelids like the setting sun. How could she have believed that turning her back on him was the right course? This Rey that burns to be touched, to be wanted, is more real than any placid Jedi simulacrum of her will ever be.

“I was so angry at you after Crait,” she confesses. “And angry at myself for thinking that the…the way I feel could save you. It can’t, Ben.” He flushes but she grabs the collar of his shirt with both hands, keeping him close. “But I think the way you feel might. What I mean is, you could save yourself. Or maybe we could save each other. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I am who I am, Rey. I may never be able to be the man you hope I’ll be. But I need you.”

“I need you, too.” It’s such a relief to admit it. “Come to Ahch-To. Let me show you.”

He’s stunned. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “The island is tiny. There are a handful of stone huts on one side. I’ll wait for you there.”

“It will take me some time to get there. Maybe ten hours if I push.” He’s scanning her face, afraid she’ll change her mind.

Rey slips her tongue shyly against his. He moans into her mouth.

“I’ll wait for you,” she promises.  
  


~~~~~

  
“Go back to sleep. It’s still dark outside.”

“I can’t,” he sighs. “I have to go. We talked about this.”

Rain is beating down on the hut. Surf batters the cliffs far below.

“Terrible weather,” she mumbles into the crook of his elbow. “Better not risk flying on a day like today. Wait ‘til tomorrow. Or next week.”

“I wish I could.” He traces a line of kisses down her shoulder blade. “I’ve been gone for three days. It’ll take me half-a-day to get back. Any longer and I’m risking a coup.”

“How terrible,” she teases quietly.

“You do not want Hux in charge of the First Order.”

“I don’t want anyone in charge of the First Order. I don’t want the First Order to exist.”

“That’s not a problem I can solve today. And definitely not from here.” He tries to disentangle their limbs so he can get off the narrow bunk, but Rey won’t cooperate.

“Don’t be cross. Especially if it’s our last day.” She aches even saying it out loud.

He nuzzles her ear gently. “Only until we see each other again.”

She rolls over, brushing the soft hair back from his cheek. “When will that be? How do we do this, Ben? Try to kill each other on the battlefield then sneak off together as soon as the dust settles? How long can we possibly get away with this?”

He kisses her palm and asks without bitterness, “Are you willing to come back with me?”

She looks down.

“That’s what I thought. I haven’t changed my mind about joining the Resistance. So this is what we have. For now.”

He pulls back and climbs over her, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. Then he begins gathering his clothes from around the small room. Rey watches him dress in the dying firelight. Each heavy, black layer takes him farther from her, removed before he has even left the island.

When he’s finished, he crouches next to the bunk. His expression is tender. She can feel how much he doesn’t want to go.

“Give me a minute and I’ll see you off,” she says, but he shakes his head.

“Stay here.” His eyes are roaming all over her, drinking in each dip and curve under the rough blanket. He runs a gloved finger along its hem. “I want to picture you like this, warm and sleepy, not freezing in the rain.”

“We didn’t even make it up to the temple,” she complains.

He gives her a crooked smile. “No, we didn’t. Show me next time.”

Ben kisses her hungrily, as if trying to imprint himself on her memory. “Don’t give up on me,” he begs. And then he’s gone.

Rey hears the silencer take off. There’s no way she is getting back to sleep. She dresses and leaves the shelter of the hut, making her way through the storm and back up the trail to the temple.

The figure in the pool sits in cool, detached judgement on her. _You came here to do something irrevocable_ , she can almost hear it saying. _You certainly did that._

She thinks of the people back at the base. They won’t question her closely, won’t invade her privacy. They will accept the explanation that this trip was ‘Jedi business.’ Rey will let them think that. She doesn’t feel good about it, but she isn’t racked with guilt, either. She wants something that is just hers; she wants Ben. She almost convinced herself that the only way to move forward was to rip him out of her life. But he is too much a part of her for that to be possible. She can’t see how this will end. Only one thing is clear now.

“I’ll wait for you,” she whispers.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Had I been in charge of TROS, Ben would have been the FO spy, not Hux. And in a beautiful, Reverse Anidala symmetry, a secret love affair would have saved the galaxy instead of tearing it apart.
> 
> Title is a lyric from The Shins song, "Sea Legs."


End file.
